


Jealous

by cadmiumred



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2018-04-11 20:32:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4451261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadmiumred/pseuds/cadmiumred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An emotional (and slightly ridiculous) little one-shot that seems to be turning into more. Picard gives in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Don't you see what's happening?"

Picard looked up from studiously contemplating his hands, looked across the expanse between the couches, frowning slightly at Counselor Riker.

She smiled a bit, leaned forward, whispered like she was sharing a conspiracy. "You're jealous." Her eyebrow quirked in amusement.

A spike of anger slid through his gut, lodged in his throat, and his hands tightened around each other. He forced his hands to relax, took a breath, knowing Deanna could feel everything he felt.

"You're jealous," she repeated.  _A bit too gleefully_ , he thought. And frowned deeply.

"I am not jealous," he replied seriously, firmly.

"You are."

"I am not."

She leaned back and smiled like the cat that had caught the mouse, and he lifted his chin up in defiance.

"I want her to be happy," he retorted.

She crossed her legs and tapped her foot in the air. "You want her to be happy...with you."

He blinked, froze for seconds. Then remembered to breathe and sucked in a cold breath, blew it out. Glared. He was angry, legitimately angry now.

"Captain, you love Beverly. Stop denying it. Go tell her."

"Counselor-"

"It's Commander."

He paused, reigning in his temper -  _why am I so angry?_  - "Commander," he began again. "is this a counseling session or a conversation between two colleagues? I came into this room for a routine counseling session that I'm required to endure, not for a, a..." he searched for the words, "a push to..."  _To what?_

Suddenly, he slumped back into the seat, exhausted.  _She's right. I'm tired of denying it._

He closed his eyes, breathed. And thought about Beverly.

* * *

He walked along the promenade, strolling, looking at the shops, looking for a certain redheaded doctor who might also be on board the starbase. Not that he was actively looking for her - it just might happen that she was on the base for an event and since it was a good day to walk around and be off his ship, he just simply kept an eye out for a familiar doctor.

Turning the corner, he glimpsed red hair, looked more closely at the familiar figure standing outside of the shop.

And he saw her smiling at another man.


	2. Chapter 2

Beverly Crusher had left the Pasteur to take several hours of leave, going down to the starbase to burn off some energy. Better to leave her ship while waiting for Deanna and Will to contact her. And the Enterprise was on the way to the base, as well, but she had kept herself from researching the arrival time.

Because. Well, it was complicated.

And Jean-Luc hadn't contacted her for months. Granted, they were  _both_ captains now, rarely in the same quadrant (not that she  _regularly_ checked; fleet starship locations were in the reports that appeared on her desk every so often, and she just  _happened_  to generally be aware of the location of his vessel) and they had exchanged short messages initially, but there had existed the lingering awkwardness after the Enterprise, and her transfer to the Pasteur, and, well...

She had rejected him after Kes Prytt. There was no reason she should hope for any kind of romantic reconciliation. Hell, they had never been able to truly become anything more than awkward friends who loved each other and never spoke about it. That little glimmer of hope? It should have been extinguished long ago. So she wondered if he would contact her, or if they would simply meet with Deanna and Will together for a meal, and it would be awkward but still so good to see everyone, and then they would depart, and -

 _Enough_. She shook her head as she strolled down the promenade. This was why she had needed to get off of her ship and walk around somewhere else, anywhere else, even if it was only for a few hours.

"Captain!" She turned at the familiar voice to see her chief medical officer stepping out of a shop, waving a hand at her. She couldn't help but smile at his excited expression and the flash of humor in his eyes. "Captain, look what I found!" As she approached, he opened up the slingpack tossed over his shoulder, lifting out a bottle of what appeared to be liquor or wine. "Direct from the Alpha Quadrant! If you're lucky, I might share a glass with you someday!"

Beverly grinned at her chief medical officer's jubilation. He had been the perfect selection for her ship's crew, taking over Sickbay in a way that put her medical mind at ease, because while she loved being the captain, she was always a bit unsettled at not knowing exactly what was going on down on the medical deck, but it wasn't  _her_  sickbay...and he assuaged her unspoken concerns with regular updates, a conversational demeanor and a relaxed presence she couldn't help but appreciate. And he looked so  _happy_ , standing there with his find. She shook her head at his jubilation, still grinning.

* * *

Picard continued his approach towards Beverly, watching her smile at a man with the smile that lit up her face, the smile that fit her just as well as the dark tunic and slim trousers she was wearing, and the man standing in the entry of the shop closed his slingpack, leaned down and said some short phrase to her with a mischievous arch to his brow, and she erupted in laughter, laugher that he heard across the promenade, and she reached out and patted the man on the arm.

"Beverly!" His voice was a strained bark, an involuntary reaction to the slice of jealousy that was threatening to explode out of his chest, not what he intended at all, but he was still gratified when her head snapped around and then she met his eyes, and her smile changed, deepened, amusement gone and she appeared to be genuinely happy to see him.

Something within his chest loosened.

He stopped in front of her, unsure of what to say, but she took away his momentary paralysis when she embraced him tightly. He grasped her back, smelling the familiar perfume she always wore, or perhaps it was from her hair, but it was so good to have her there for the moment. Deanna's words slid through his mind - "You love her. Go tell her." - and Beverly pulled back to look at him, still smiling.

"Jean-Luc, I'm so glad you're here! I've missed you." And she blinked as though she was shifting something in her mind. "Here, this is my chief medical officer, Val Isadore," and the man extended a hand with a warm smile.

"Captain, it is a pleasure to meet you. If I weren't stationed on the Pasteur, I'd want to serve on the Enterprise, sir." The man was older than he appeared at first glance, crinkles around his blue eyes, and his smile was warm. Picard returned the man's greeting and firm handshake, still nurturing a twinge of jealousy.  _Beverly should be by my side_. "Anyone who serves with Beverly should consider themselves very lucky. I treasured every moment when were serving together."

The man dropped his hand, his smile dimming, and Picard turned to Beverly to see an odd expression on her face. One of genuine surprise, with a softness around her lovely blue eyes.  _Perhaps I'm being too forward. But I can't lose her again._


	3. Chapter 3

He forged ahead, having her attention, drawn in by her openness (because he could still read her, even and especially after all of these years, and she looked better, slightly older, but rested and relaxed, and she was still his Beverly) - "Beverly, I had hoped to find you here. Will and Deanna have arrived and they'd like us to come meet them for a meal." A bluff, and he wondered if she saw through it - he assumed that a meal was on the agenda for the evening, but she smiled in response to his invitation, eyes flashing, and he relaxed, drinking in her smile.

"I'd love that! I've missed them. And I've missed you, too." Her smile dimmed, tinged by sadness, and he watched her shoulders slump slightly, but then she recaptured her command persona and seemed to remember the other man standing beside them, carefully watching the exchange.

"Captains," the man said, and Picard reluctantly turned from Beverly to look up at him, glancing at the pips on the collar, taking in the medical uniform. The doctor continued, nothing but pleasant welcome on his face. "You two enjoy your time together. You deserve every moment of your shore leave. Captain Crusher, I'll see you back on the ship in the morning." And he turned and left with a quick wave, leaving Beverly and Jean-Luc in the busy promenade, alone in the midst of the crowd. She watched him for a moment, that direct gaze that sometimes made him want to twitch a bit because it was as though she was looking into him-

"The Renegade has docked?" Her question was neutral, careful, but there was that slight glimmer in her eye, like she was asking about something more.

"It has. Shall we?" And he presented his arm, and she took it, sending a thrill through him at the closeness, and how right it felt, and they set off towards the transporter area.

* * *

 

The walk to the closest transporter section was brief, quick, and she leaned into his arm, enjoying how close he was. He smells the same, she mused, then chastized herself at the thought. This is Jean-Luc, my friend, not a lover, no, never really a lover, just a man I loved dearly-

"And how is your fine ship?" His voice jolted her out of her head, thankfully, and she began to tell him about her vessel, and her crew as they walked in sync (as always, as if they had never been apart) and then they were stepping onto the platform, his grey-blue eyes open, drinking her in, and the beam caught them-

-Will's smiling face greeted them as they materialized upon the Renegade, and his warm grin drew out her own smile. Will was good man, an exemplary first officer; he had stayed on the Enterprise proabbly too long because he wanted to remain Jean-Luc's first officer, but once he left he and Deanna moved to the Renegade, and then they were married, and, oh, she had missed Will and Deanna so-

"Captains! A sight for sore eyes!" A hug and handshake for Picard, then an engulfing hug and an unexpected kiss on the cheek for her- "Deanna wants you to go find her, Beverly, and the Captain-"

"Please, call me Jean-Luc-"

"-the distinguished captain and I shall begin to prepare dinner for the two of you! And we shall reminisce all night."

* * *

 

Beverly followed the computer's directions and trailed the direction indicator through the corridors, into a lift, back into a long corridor and then stepped into a Sickbay through a side entrance, looking around, assessing, and there was Deanna, coming around the bend, taking off a medical lab coat to reveal a first officer's uniform.

"Beverly!" The petite woman practically ran towards Beverly and engulfed her in a giant hug. "I've missed you so much! Talking over subspace just isn't the same," the first officer mumbled into Beverly's hair. Then leaning back: "I sensed you the minute you beamed aboard – such conflict!" Deanna pulled Beverly into a private room, set the privacy lock and practically pushed Beverly up onto the bed so that the woman was perched on the edge, looking down at Deanna. Deanna pulled up a chair and sat looking up at Beverly, rested her arms on the bed and plopped her chin on top, dark eyes waiting for Beverly to begin to speak.

Beverly placed a hand on Deanna's hair in affection, surprised at the depth of emotion that was swelling up, catching her off guard. She didn't realize how lonely she'd been until she saw Deanna in person. And Will. And Jean-Luc. "I've missed you too - but as in the past, you miss nothing," Beverly began, her eyes skittering away to rest on the blank wall, knowing that hiding her feelings from Deanna would simply never work.

"You love Jean-Luc." It was a gentle statement coming from Deanna, not a question – and Beverly felt her eyes filling with tears at the kindness in her friend's words. She nodded, examining the wall still, unable to keep denying what she had been pushing away until she saw the man on the station. Knowing Deanna would feel the spike of fear at the admission of the truth.

"I do. I had ignored it, but we ran into each other on the station below, and it's no use denying it anymore. I do love him. I just…it would never work. We're both captains, we're on different ships…" She looked down at her hands, her fingers twisting in her lap, revealing her tension. "When we were both on the Enterprise, we kept an equilibrium. And now it's too late, isn't it." Beverly closed her eyes then, attempting to compose herself. We've lost our chance.

Beverly heard Deanna sigh. "He loves you deeply." Beverly actually twitched at her close friend's words, shocked. It was too much to hope for-

"I felt him the moment you both boarded…He is…reserved. Withholding himself, because he assumes that you don't care about him the way he cares about you."


	4. Chapter 4

Will and Deanna's quarters were spacious and neutral, the station visible through the windows and viewports on the far wall. Picard sat uneasily on the couch, across from his former first officer. Will was telling him of Beverly's messages over the past year. "She wouldn't say a word about you, you know. She never asked about you, never inquired about you. It was very odd. She would speak about everyone else who had been on the Enterprise…except you."

Picard looked down at the glass in his hand, swirled the amber liquid. He couldn't speak, his thoughts around Beverly bordering on obsession. He didn't realize how hard he worked on a daily basis to push her out of his mind, but having Deanna speak the truth earlier in that wretched,  _required_  counseling session, then seeing Beverly on the station when she had looked so  _exuberant_ , laughing with that other man, and now as he sat across from Will, who had brought her up and immediately directed the conversation towards her -

A clutch in his chest at Will's statements, a tightening that had to be all emotion, because he knew damn well that his heart couldn't  _actually_  seize up ( _the artifical heart Beverly had cared for all of those years in her Sickbay_ _…_ _how many times had she taken care of him in that way, put him back together? The feel of her hands upon his chest or his arm as she examined him, he could conjure up the memories at a moment's notice..._ )

Picard sighed, looked up, resolved to be completely honest about his roiling emotions. He trusted Will. He had known the man for years and years. "I fear that I have waited too long," Picard began, but unexpectedly he found himself choking up. Unable to proceed, he looked down at the amber liquid in the glass in his hand, then closed his eyes, attempting to compose himself.

Will was quiet as he sat on the couch across the low table, and it was a comfortable silence, one that was full of patience. Then the steady sound of Will refilling both glasses. Then: "Sir, if I may speak freely…"

Picard opened his eyes to see Will's steady gaze, so open and just patiently  _waiting_.  _My, how our roles have reversed_ , Picard mused. Nodded once, then braced himself for whatever would come out of his former first officer's mouth.

"If you don't try, then you'll regret missing this opportunity for the rest of your life." Distantly, Picard realized that Will sounded somewhat like Deanna. Even the cadence of his speech echoed Deanna's pronouncements, remembered from over the years. And from the session just hours before.

"What is your worst fear?" And now Will most  _certainly_  sounded like Deanna.  _Merde_.

"That we will have thrown away our last opportunity for love." Picard attempted to continue after such a frank statement and then held his breath, conflicted.  _No, that's not it at all…_

"Actually, that's not true," he slowly backtracked, holding Will's gaze. "If we never try, then I  _always_  have hope. But if we try and then we fail? Then I've lost her. I don't think I could survive that pain." Picard leaned back on the couch, stunned at his surprising self-revelation. He had been deluding himself all of these years. Holding Beverly at arms' length to preserve the hope that perhaps some day they could be together. And he would never have to truly lose her if they never tried.

Will cleared his throat, then, looked nervous. "However, it goes both ways. If I may speak freely, sir?"

"Will, of course." Picard frowned at the man's sudden hesitation.

Will rubbed his face, looking suddenly older, weary. "Sir, the thought of losing Deanna haunts me. But I'd rather live with that fear than give up our time together." The hand went down, and the younger man leaned forward with intensity. "When we decided to be together, it was irrational, foolish, a perceived conflict of interest - but we weren't willing to live in the shadow of fear any longer. If you love Beverly, then you need to simply be with her, and the rest will all work out somehow."

Picard leaned forward and looked at his former first officer with a haunted expression. "I love her, Will. I've loved her for thirty years."

"Does she know that?" Picard opened his mouth to reply - and then stopped again.  _Did she? Does she know the depth of my feelings towards her?_  Picard watched Will raise one eyebrow in an arch that was entirely too satisfied, like a marksman who had hit the center of the target.  _Oh, now he most certainly reminds me of Deanna-_

"Are you afraid that she is happy enough without you?" Picard actually felt himself twitch at Will's words. They hit too close to home. And Will raised both of his brows at Picard, now, as if asking for an answer.  _This man is too much like Deanna, now..._

"What if she doesn't need me, Will?" The confession, the question, it slipped past his lips as easily as any casual statement, but the weight of speaking his fear out loud nearly crushed him. And Will smiled at him.

Smiled!  _Why the hell is he smiling?_

"Our guests should arrive in a moment. Don't let this opportunity pass you by." Will's pronouncement jolted Picard out of self-reflection just as the portal to the captain's quarters slid open with a barely perceivable whoosh, revealing Deanna and Beverly in the open frame.


	5. Chapter 5

Deanna could nearly taste the emotions radiating from her quarters as she and Beverly approached. Will's focus and care towards his former commanding officer, tinged with a spark of suppressed laughter. And Picard's familiar, focused mind, swirling around and coalescing around something - _someone_.

Deanna often knew when he was thinking about Beverly. So familiar over the years - that intertwined sensation of love, friendship, tension, deliberate distance, a masking of his true emotions. A grey-green, somehow, but vibrant, living. And that grey-green swirl had just expanded, relaxed its boundaries.

He had decided something. He _wanted_ something. Someone.

Deanna turned and smiled at Beverly, who was apprehensive about the impending arrival. "They're waiting for us," Deanna said quietly, a gentle smile on her lips. And then the cabin doors opened.

Beverly's tension hiked up, but there was immense satisfaction the moment she saw Jean-Luc, and the joy was evident to Deanna, even if it didn't show on Beverly's face. And then Beverly saw Will, reached out, hugged him. Deanna reveled in the sensation - Will's pleasure at seeing an old friend, Jean-Luc's contentment at seeing Beverly happy. And the grey-green pleasure from Jean-Luc brightened, while Beverly's distinct violet-blue haze of contentment swirled into a mixture of happiness, anxiety, and a desire to simply be present in the moment with her friends.

Deanna smiled at her longtime former captain. "Jean-Luc, welcome. I brought Beverly."

* * *

Beverly was still unresolved, even throughout the meal. Would they ever work? If she told Jean-Luc how she felt, would he respond in kind? Or was she simply deluding herself, hoping for a relationship that could never truly exist?

A gentle touch on her arm pulled her from her reverie. Jean-Lic's questioning gaze met her when she raised her chin to look at him.

"Are you all right, Beverly? You seem tired." His question was cautious, and the Rikers began a side conversation about their ship, giving their guests the semblance of privacy. _That was kind_ , Beverly thought.

"I am, actually. Shore leave is hard work…" Jean-Luc's smile at her mild joke caused something in her stomach to turn over. _Oh my. I've missed him so._

The comm system chirped. "Bridge to Captain Riker. The refurb analysis is ready for your review." Both Rikers leaned back from the table, back in command mode. _I suppose we should go. They have work to do._

"This dinner was lovely, and we should be going, anyway." Beverly stood. "I'm going to miss you both, you know."

The Rikers stood, as did Picard. But Deanna's next words shocked Beverly. "Stay on the Renegade tonight. It's your shore leave and if you stay down on the station you'll run into your crew, and if you go back to your ships, you'll just work. Stay here and enjoy each other's company. I've even secured quarters for the two of you."

* * *

_It's now or never,_ Picard thought. And he decided. Placing a hand on Beverly's arm with a smile, interrupting whatever she was about to say. "Of course. That will give us time to catch up." She looked at him with wide eyes, but after a moment she nodded, smiled at him.

And he saw out of the corner of his eye that both Will and Deanna both had that secret little smile on their faces.

* * *

The computer directed them to a single set of living quarters. That was her first warning. Then, upon entry, she saw roses and a bottle of wine on the center table. His audible inhale from beside her told her that the romantic gesture was as much of a surprise to him as it was to her.

She walked into the quarters, passing him, and - yes. _Of course._ There was a single bedroom, with a single (very large, very luxurious) bed. Turning around, she saw him motionless, stiff, in the middle of the living area. _This isn't going to work._ She had such deep feelings for him, but his discomfort at the forced situation was so obvious, so visibly painful…just, no.

It didn't matter if he loved her or not. Because deep down they were still uncomfortable together when anything hinted at the possibly of friendship turning into something more.

"I didn't do this, Jean-Luc-" and she gestured helplessly at the roses, the wine, the bedroom behind her. With a sigh, she continued. "I'll go. It was good to see you, though."

Mortified, escaping the awkward situation, she passed him, heading towards the door to the corridor when she heard what was nearly a bark behind her. "Beverly!" Turning with a startled frown, she saw him and the look on his face was nervous but focused. But there was also fear in his eyes.

_Why is he looking at me with fear?_

"Beverly, I do not know how to do this. All I know is that I love you and I have loved for most of my life."

She blinked, speechless, mind blank.

"You are important to me," he continued, taking a step towards her. And her temper flared.

"You and I won't work, so don't ply me with sweet words about love." The venom in her own voice shocked her. "It doesn't matter if we love each other. We're on shore leave, but I'm going back to my ship in the morning. We would never work."

She crossed her arms, unable to stop, terrified of letting the evening continue. _If I end this now, it will hurt less in the end._ "I'm not willing to be a momentary distraction for you. If I wanted a fling, I'd find someone with no complications."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back. I'm sorry for being gone for so long. But I'm back now and will do my best to make it up to you. 
> 
> Also, this story is turning into a ship-tastic, fluffy, angsty mess. 
> 
> Let the games begin.
> 
> xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That tone of voice she was taking with him was unfamiliar, and he could nearly taste the fear wrapped around her words. She was threatening to find someone with no complications? No, she was pushing him away. He was _sure_ of it.

But the thought of her with another man made his blood boil. He had seen it over the years, first with Jack (and he had loved her then), and on the Enterprise there was that infernal ghost creature (it had eaten him up inside to watch her in love with another, but watching her embarrassment and pain afterward, that hurt him even more) and the Trill (he had always wondered about that Odin, and if something ever happened between her and Will, but he simply could not think about that because the jealousy would eat him alive)....

Jealous. Jealous over a fictional, theoretical lover that she was threatening him with.

_Merde_. He was possessive. And hungry. _For her._

"Beverly, if you have needs, I can take care of them.” He shocked himself at his own blatant words but there was no time to lose. She could end the conversation, escape these guest quarters at any minute, and all hope would be lost. But the upturn of her chin at his statement, combined with the flash of interest in her eyes, ( _she's so defiant)_ revealed more than she may have intended.

"I'm sorry?” She replied, arching an eyebrow, again with the stoic, smooth face.

“You deserve so much more than an impulsive fling. That’s what you’d find with someone without 'complications.’ If you have needs, you should trust someone with them. Someone who knows you well.” He stepped forward slowly, and she didn’t retreat. The twitch around her eye was her only sign of a response or reaction. So he kept moving, slowly, until he was centimeters in front of her. She kept her arms crossed and he could feel the warmth of her skin. But she wasn't stepping away, instead meeting his eyes with a steely challenge.

“But could I trust that person with my heart?” Her whispered question stole his breath away.

“Oh Beverly, you can trust me.” And he leaned forward and kissed her. No other touch, nothing but their mouths. She was stiff, but her lips were yielding, and, oh yes, now she was kissing him back. No other movement, but she was _most certainly_ kissing him back.

She tasted sweet like honey, like softness, like home.

Merde, he was lost. He pressed her mouth open and tasted her.

xxxxxx

The sudden but gentle press of his mouth, not like the doppelgänger so many years ago, or the kiss in the ready room. And then a press of his hand against her shoulder, pushing her against the wall.

A flare of desire blossomed in her abdomen. She wasn’t saying no, but she wasn’t saying yes, but she was kissing him back, because how could she not? The smell of his skin, and his patient, pressing push, and she was backed up against the wall, and he was pressing his body against hers, and oh damn, it was good.

It was _good_.

Damn. _Damn. What am I going to do?_

xxxxx


End file.
